Fine Dining
by Fortune Maiden
Summary: "As much as I would like nothing more than for our stepfather to choke on his spit, I do agree with him on this. You can't be picky."


**Fine Dining**

" _As much as I would like nothing more than for our stepfather to choke on his spit, I do agree with him on this. You can't be picky."_

* * *

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

The plate in front of him looked simple enough. A light brown piece of meat, some yellow sauce around it, some herbs on top. But the cold way Seto had set down the plate and those words made Mokuba shrink back. He would have slipped out of the chair, but Seto's hand was already on the back, holding it in place.

"Your choice."

"What is it?" Mokuba asked timidly.

"Foie gras."

"But what _is_ it?"

"Nothing you will eat if I told you," Seto replied curtly and sat down across him. The dining table, normally filled with dishes and silverware was completely bare aside from that one plate and the cup of water next to it. Seto didn't even have his own plate. And their stepfather was nowhere to be seen either.

Normally, Mokuba would have been happy to have some time alone with his brother. He'd been thrilled when Seto showed up in his room and said they would have dinner together, just the two of them. But now he just wanted to run away. He didn't like this ominous dish and he liked the serious look on his older brother's face even less. Seto never looked at _him_ like that.

"I-I don't want it," he tried weakly. "It's gross."

"And how do you know that if you won't even try it?"

Why was Seto doing this? He knew Mokuba didn't like all these weird "gourmet" dishes. He was always the one trying to keep Mokuba from having to attend all those dinner parties and business lunches and haggling some normal food for him when the eight year old inevitably refused to eat any of the unpronounceable colorful dishes in front of him.

Just the other night he'd calmly and unflinchingly informed a dinner table full of businessmen that Mokuba was allergic to seafood when he'd buried his face in Seto's arm upon seeing a bowl of Sannakji. That quickly dispelled any of the usual mock coddling attempts—food allergies were serious after all—and it quickly made Gozaburo call over a waiter to let Mokuba choose something in the high-end seafood place he could eat. He knew perfectly well it was a bold-faced lie, but he wasn't about to call Seto's bluff and discipline him in front of his partners.

Gozaburo had been furious afterwards though. He accused Seto of making him lose face the entire ride home, and Mokuba was sure the conversation had continued after he'd been sent to bed.

Oh.

"Is this about the octopuses?" he asked quietly.

"Not specifically. I don't blame you for not wanting to eat them." Even Seto had only taken a couple of pieces. And only when Gozaburo was watching. And from the way he broke eye contact with Mokuba and grimaced, it was clear he hadn't liked them at all. "But overall, yes."

"I'm sorry you got in trouble because of me," Mokuba sniffed. He wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Seto.

"It's not your fault," Seto's tone softened just enough to be reassuring. "But I can't keep covering for you."

 _Why not?_ Mokuba wanted to cry out. He hated going to all those stupid events. There was no one for him to talk to and even if he could cling to Seto's sleeve the whole time, his brother had to participate in the complicated conversations and couldn't talk to him. And meals were just the worst. They lasted forever and he hated everything but the bread and everyone kept looking at him and telling him to try this and that and he'll like it but he won't, he won't, he won't!

"Calm down," Seto said sharply. "I'm not going to stop trying to get you to stay home. I know how boring these things are for you. But sometimes you have to attend, and you have to know how to behave." Because Gozaburo couldn't care less what Mokuba did at home as long as he didn't bother Seto, but in public, he was a Kaiba too, and had to act like it. Seto had told him before it was a small price to pay for keeping their stepfather away from him otherwise.

"You can't just sit at the table and refuse to eat."

"I eat the bread," Mokuba pointed out stubbornly. "And the veggies." And anything else he could recognize. Which wasn't much, but it was still something!

"You have to eat other things too. Gozaburo thinks you're becoming a picky eater. And as much as I would like nothing more than for our stepfather to choke on his spit, I do agree with him on this."

"I'm not picky!" Mokuba objected. "I eat all the things our cook makes!" Seto smirked.

"Then there's no problem." He gestured to the foie gras dish. "He made this."

Mokuba flinched and looked at the dish again, still reluctant. What was it? Seto still hadn't told him. It didn't look as bad as some of the other things he'd seen in the restaurants but _what was it_? It didn't smell good at all! Mokuba shook his head.

"No."

"Mokuba—

"No! I won't! You can't make me!" He shut his eyes tight, and crossed his arms.

Silence reigned for a few moments, then Mokuba heard the sound of cutlery against a plate. He cautiously opened one eye to see Seto cutting the meat into small pieces.

"Foie gras is duck liver," he explained. "Sometimes goose, but we only had duck on hand."

Duck liver? Nope, Mokuba did not want it. He shut both eyes again.

"It's prepared in a particular way though," Seto continued. "The bird has to be fattened up first. The liver needs to be enlarged to about ten times its usual size. And it needs to be nice and full of fat. Want to know how that's done?" Mokuba opened his eyes wide and stared at his brother carefully. Slowly he shook his head.

Seto kept talking anyway, still cutting the meat. "The birds are force-fed. Ducks twice a day, Geese three times. Every day for around two weeks or so. With feeding tubes. Can you picture it? Being held in place while food is being shoved right down your throat? At all of your meals?"

Mokuba winced and covered his mouth, tears springing to his eyes. He didn't want to picture it! Why was Seto telling him this?

"It's a really gross practice, isn't it?" Mokuba nodded. His tears fell freely now as he stared at his no-nonsense brother in fear.

"I told you we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Seto said again, but this time the aloofness was gone and he just sounded tired. "Gozaburo is determined to fix your eating habits. _He_ will force you to eat if he has to. That's the hard way. The easy way…" Seto stood up with the plate and gently set it in front of Mokuba again. He crouched down next to his little brother, and wiped his tears away with a napkin. "The easy way is for you to trust me."

He picked up a small piece of meat with a fork and held it in front of his brother. "It's not that bad. Try it."

Mokuba took the fork. He didn't want to eat this. It sounded even more disgusting now that Seto told him what it was. He trusted Seto. But he didn't want to eat this.

But he knew Seto wasn't just trying to scare him. He did but Seto wouldn't lie to him. Their stepfather could and would make him eat if he wanted to. Seto was only trying to protect him from that.

But he didn't want to eat this.

Mokuba shut his eyes tight and put the piece of foie gras in his mouth, wincing when the flavor hit his tongue. It was…chewy. And buttery. And really chewy. It was hard to bit through and it stayed in his mouth for too long before he finally forced himself to swallow it, letting out the breath he'd been holding when he finally did so. Seto wordlessly handed him a glass of water, which he downed furiously, shuddering as the taste remained in his mouth.

He did it! He tried the fat duck liver! Mokuba looked at his brother expectantly.

Seto nodded. "A few more bites."

Mokuba's shoulders drooped. Figures his brother wouldn't let him off that easily. Thankfully, he knew what to expect now so the second bite went down easier than the first. And the third easier than that.

But each piece that touched his tongue only reinforced the gross slimy taste. No. He didn't like this. Seto stopped prompting him to eat so tossed down the fork and shoved the plate away.

"No more!" he said with a shudder and buried his face in his arms on the table.

"No good?" Seto asked, his tone a lot softer now. Mokuba shook his head. "What didn't you like?" Mokuba hesitated before answering. It didn't sound like he brother was making fun of him. It sounded like a genuine question.

"It's too chewy," he replied.

"Okay." The plate was lifted and Seto's footsteps led him back to his own seat. Mokuba glanced up. Seto was eating the rest of the foie gras himself.

"Okay?" Mokuba repeated timidly.

"You tried it, you didn't like it. That's _okay_. I'm proud of you, Mokuba." Seto's eyes were gentle again, making Mokuba's chest and cheeks warm. It was really okay? And Seto was proud of him?

"Here's how it's going to work," Seto said, in that authoritative voice that told Mokuba everything was under his control now. "You don't have to eat anything you don't like, but you have to try it first. If you decide you hate it after a few bites, you can push it onto my plate. I'll finish it."

Mokuba considered it and nodded. That sounded like something he could do.

"Father's really okay with that?"

"He will be. We agreed last night to try things my way first, and this was one of my conditions. But try not to hate everything. Some of the things you've refused to eat before are actually pretty good."

"Kay," Mokuba agreed. Then after a moment, he added, "But can I draw the line at those octopuses? They were _moving_!"

"Deal."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for Reading!

Inspired by maybe one too many awkward/embarrassing family dinners ahaha...*sigh*

I've been wanting to write something with the Kaiba bros for a while though, and I like the idea of Kaiba having a sort of tough love but protective streak when they were in Gozaburo's care. And kids and fine dining typically don't mix but high society has its rules and you can't really just not follow them...


End file.
